


The First Scene

by DemonDean10



Series: A/B/O Beatles [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: 1964, Accidental Knotting, Alpha Paul, Alpha Ringo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Beta Brian, Beta George, First Time, Friendship, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Cynthia, Omega John, Sad Ending, Secrets, Smut, TW:Miscarriage, for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 15:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18264557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDean10/pseuds/DemonDean10
Summary: So this is the first story in a new series.John is an omega and has kept this secret from all his friends for years. Until one day while on their first visit to the U.S. he discovers he forgot his heat suppressants. There is an Alpha that could come to his rescue, but what will happen after the two wake up and realize what they've done.Man, I really am bad at summaries.





	The First Scene

**Author's Note:**

> So I always see Paul as the omega and the mpreg one, and I love those stories I do I do, but I wanted to see how I could write John as an omega and a whole thing was born.

As a child, John took it for granted that he would present as an Alpha and so did everyone else. He surrounded himself with followers, leading them off in adventures and fun missions, ordering them around. He was tall and bulky, rough in his games, and prone to fits of anger. It wasn’t worth thinking about other possibilities, John was going to be an Alpha like everyone expected. 

 

Which is why it was such a surprise when he presented as an omega. It had happened at home in the middle of the night, John had been overcome by his first heat. He’d been terrified, confused at the situation. Mimi had burst into his bedroom first, followed by a baffled Uncle George. Together, they had calmed him down and Mimi had sent her husband to the store for suppressants. 

 

The morning afterwards had been odd, John was exhausted and scared, now smelling of freshly baked bread. Male omegas were rare, seen as oddities by most of the population. Hell, even he had made cruel jokes as a child, everyone did. How was he to cope? 

 

Uncle George and Mimi had sat down with him, and told him their deepest secret. Mimi was an alpha. A female alpha. George, a beta, had mated with her and they pretended that she was one as well. Like with male omegas, female alphas were not well seen by people. She told John that, like her, he’d have to hide his nature for his own good. 

 

They’d agreed that Mimi would rub her alpha scent on him well and proper every morning and that they would buy some scents he could carry around to disguise his new omega scent. It was a routine John soon became used to and no one ever figured it out. Of course Julia knew, and she’d tried to encourage her son to embrace him omega side, a side he shared with her, but he’d always been too scared. Still, he’d allowed her to teach him about the omega life, things she and many others usually had had to learn on their own. How to best use suppressants, how to build a nest how to deal with slick, deal with the side effects of suppressants, etc. Useful things. 

 

None of John’s friends suspected anything, they all were convinced that he was an Alpha, their leader through and through. A couple of years passed, Uncle George died, John started a skiffle band, and a Church Fete occured. 

 

When John met Paul McCartney he was certain that the young lad would present as an omega, backwards thoughts still present in his mind, but no. The bastard had gone and presented as an Alpha, smelling like petrichor, and flaunted it too. As a joke, he’d get right in John’s space to try and ‘compete’ with the band leader. They all laughed, knowing Johnny was the only leader of the band, but it wasn’t that funny for John. Paul was the only one of the boys in the band that weren’t betas (which he’d chosen in purpose) and his alpha scent was intoxicating to him, almost overpowering. But John wasn’t going to let anyone, not even Paul McCartney, control him. John may have been an omega but he wasn’t going to be seen as weak and taboo. He gave as good as Paul, bringing more scents with him to fight against Paul’s. 

 

Then George, the guitarist that looked like he was twelve, had come along and joined the band. Thankfully, he’d presented as a beta by then and so John had allowed him to join. Competing and hiding himself from one alpha was hard enough, two would be impossible. 

 

More years passed. The band grew and changed, Julia died, and John had gone to art school. There he met Stuart Sutcliffe, a kind beta and the first person outside of his family to find out about John. Stu hadn’t judged, hadn’t even dwelled that much on it. He’d only smiled and told John that he should disguise his scent less, that it was delightful. 

 

The second person to find out was Cynthia, another omega. John had never had an omega friend before, it was wonderful. They could get together and complain about Alphas, let their scents free, cuddle without fear of their partners getting aroused (or finding out that they were omegas...at least in John’s case.) It was a nice relationship and the two pretended to be a couple for both their sakes. Alpha and omega, that’s what they were. 

 

The band had gone to Hamburg and it was there that John had a real hard time masking himself. Luckily, there were so many people surrounding them all the time that it was easy to pretend and say that the omega smell lingering was someone else. Stu helped as well, mixing his scent with Johns, much to Paul’s displeasure. John never allowed Paul to mix scents with him, for reasons Paul could never figure out. It was also harder with Pete there, another alpha. 

 

But the performances were good and they were introduced to uppers and they had good fun. They met Ringo, who was also from Liverpool, and got to play with him a few times. For an alpha, he was very mild mannered and calm, smiling at everyone at any time. 

 

Then George had gone and gotten himself deported for being twelve. Then Pete and Paul, the ridiculous alphas, had gotten deported. Stu fell in love with a female alpha called Astrid, who was out and proud for who she was, inspiring feelings of jealousy in John. 

 

And so John had gone back to England, alone. He had nothing but the clothes on his back, an amp, a small satchell, and a guitar. He was lucky that his heat had passed already, because he had no suppressants left. But his scent was impossible to mask, and on the boat back to england a few alphas had gotten far too close and daring for his taste. ‘Hello, darlin’’ one had drawled in his ear, ‘What’s an omega like you doing all alone? Don’t you want a strong alpha like me to take care of ya?’ John had been horrified and disgusted. No one had ever talked to him like that, touched his arm and leg like that. Wanting to charge and punch the man’s lights out, he’d found himself petrified, his scent surely demonstration it. 

 

Luckily for him, a pair of women had arrived, alpha women judging by their smell, and stood up to the man and his friends. After he’d been scared away, they’d offered to sit next to him. Embarrassed, he’s agreed. At the end of the trip, they’d given him plenty of scents for the trip back to Liverpool. He’d thanked them with genuine gratefulness and they each given him a hug. He never saw them again, but he never forgot them. 

 

Time passed, John and Cynthia parted ways as she found an actual alpha partner that she could form a family with, and soon John found himself in Paris with Paul. He had never had more fun, eating more cheese and buying more banana milkshakes than he ever had before. The only problem was that the two had to share a bed and so hiding himself became that much harder. Whenever they’d shared a bed before they were usually sharing with someone else too, too tired to smell properly, or smelt like alcohol and sweat. John took a shower every night, drowning himself in scents and cologne. But that wasn’t the only problem, with the years Paul’s smell had gotten stronger, more beautiful. John resisted the urge to curl up close to the other man and just stuff his face in his scent glands more than once. 

 

But he’d survived and Paul had discovered nothing unusual. They went back to Liddypool with a new haircut and the band had gone on. The next year John found out tha Stu had died, and Astrid had done her best to comfort the grieving omega while mourning too. John had tried to comfort her too, but his emotional intelligence had always been stilted and he’d fallen a bit short. Still, Astrid appreciated the effort. 

 

The band, now the Beatles, met Brian Epstein. Brian was a beta, a good man, and the first person to actually believe in them. He got them gigs, new suits, and even a recording audition. Then Ringo joined the band, now composed of two alphas, one beta, and an omega. Or rather, as it was on paper, three alphas and one beta. Thought the occasional jokes were made, George never seemed to be upset at not being an alpha. ‘And be a crazy knothead like you pillocks? No thanks.’

 

The Beatles blew up in England, then in Europe, and now in America. And this is where the story began.

 

* * *

 

John knew he’d forgotten something when he packed for America, he just hadn’t figured it out. It was now apparent that he’d left behind his heat suppressants. A terrifying concept, since he hadn’t actually gone through his hear since he’d presented at age fifteen, nearly ten years ago. All day he’d had an unusual feeling, an itch deep inside him. Alpha scents were affecting him more, from Paul’s to Ed Sullivan’s, they assaulted his nostrils. But it wasn’t until he felt slick running down his thighs at a party that he’d panicked, he’d ran to the bathroom and found a flood in his pants. After cleaning himself up, he’d rubbed some scents on his glands and gone to find Eppy. Eppy knew he was an alpha, had discovered it in Spain. 

 

“Please, you need to get me suppressants.” Said John, shaking where he stood. Fear and want were clouding his scent along with the artificial scents. 

 

Brian nodded solemnly, “I will. Here,” He offered a key from his blazer pocket, “Go to my room and wait for me there.”

 

John took it anxiously and shivered, an urge to grab someone and start humping them taking over him. 

 

Seeing that the man was close to losing control, Brian decided to lead him to the hotel room. It was lucky the party was being held at the hotel so they only had to head to the lift while trying to turn as few heads as possible. John was sweating by the time they got there, holding Brian’s bicep tightly. 

 

“Hold on, John.” Said Brian as they went up into the Beatles’ floor. He stepped off the lid and practically carried John to the suite, his scent overpowering even to Brian’s beta self. 

 

He opened the door, “Wait for me, John. I’ll go get your suppre-”

 

He was interrupted by John slamming him against the wall and rubbing up against him, uncaring that the manager was not an alpha. John was burning up, desperate and horny. He was whining and moaning, the heat cursing through his veins. Was this what he’d been missing all these years? Was he mad!?

 

Brian choked, “J-John! Stop this instant!” He would never dare to take advantage of John in this state, he’d promised this in Spain, even if he’d fantasized about it before. 

 

“Pleease, Brian. I  _ need _ you.” John was humping his leg, eyes screwed shut. 

 

“No, this is your heat talking.” Brian told him as he pushed himself away, “Let me go get you your suppressants.” Without waiting for an answer, the older man hurried to the door and got out, locking it behind him. Hopefully, John wouldn’t try to get out. 

 

The omega was left behind in agony. He headed towards the bed, removing his soaked trousers and pants, and threw himself on the familiar smelling bed. He rolled around in momentary content then resumed his humping. His slick was staining the bed but he didn’t care, he needed to be filled, he needed an alpha. All kinds of foreign thoughts ran through his mind, the kind John had never entertained before. He imagined an Alpha coming to his rescue, knotting John and filling him up. He imagined dominant hands running through his body, pulling at his hair and pinching his nipples. He arched off the bed, want and need ripping a scream from his throat. If his bandmates could hear him right now...what would the alphas think? Would they have mercy for him? Maybe Paul would appear and take care of John, wouldn’t that be nice. 

 

* * *

 

Brian returned to a room that reeked of an omega in heat, the smell affecting even him, and to mewls and whimpers coming from the bedroom. His bedroom. 

 

Wearily, Brian ventured into the bedroom and swallowed as he spotted a half naked John fingering himself and rubbing his scent all over the sheets. 

 

Half-opened eyes found Eppy’s blurred shape and pupils dilated. John stopped his actions and shifted closer to Brian, opening his legs even farther. “A-Alpha?” He whispered, lust clouding his thoughts. 

 

Avoiding his gaze, Brian responded, “No, John. It’s me, Brian. A beta.” He held up the paper bag, “I’ve got your suppressants.”

 

John shook his head desperately, “No, no...Beta, Brian-fuck me, Brian.” He begged, twisting his body in search for any source of relief. 

 

His manager regarded him gently, “Let me give you your pills, okay?” He’d seen John take them dry so he didn’t bother to get water, knowing the omega wouldn’t probably care at the moment. 

 

John curled up as he got closer, suddenly looking afraid. “No, no, no!” He yelled. He couldn’t lose this feeling. John didn’t need  _ meds _ , he needed a body on top of his, claiming him. He growled as Epstein took out two pills, “Get away!”

 

Brian got an idea. He put the bottles away and said, “I shouldn’t do this, John.” His tone was defeated. 

 

The omega regarded him with distrust, but lust was sparking up again. 

 

Brian shook his head, “You will regret this…”

 

John crawled closer, interest perking up. 

 

A hand came up to loosen the manager’s tie and to slowly unbutton his dress shirt, “But if this is the only thing that will satisfy you, then I can help you. Beta or not.”

 

John’s intints took over, he laid down, spread himself wide, and held out a hand for Brian. “ _ Take _ me, Brian. Please, Eppy,  _ please _ .” His eyes were wide and craving. 

 

Cool on the outside but guilty on the inside, Brian moved to the bed and crawled over John, his wild scent assaulting his senses. “It’s okay, Johnny. I’ll fix it.”

 

John smiled gratefully, relaxed, and closed his eyes. This is how he didn’t see his manager regard him painfully and then moving. 

 

Epstein took ahold of the omega and turned him around, holding him against his chest. He raised the hand holding the pills and pushed them into the startled man’s mouth, keeping it pressed against it and forcing it closed afterwards. 

 

John shrieked as he was manhandled and the pills were forced into his mouth. His legs kicked out, but the heat had taken its toll and him and made him weak. His broken and betrayed cries were muffled, he looked up at Brian with wretched eyes. 

 

His manager did not stand down, “Swallow.”

 

John shook his head stubbornly, he wouldn’t submit to this beta. He was done with hiding his heats, they would be heavenly once he had someone to share them with. Not someone like Brian. 

 

Brian pressed down on the mouth harder, telling himself this was for John’s sake. “Swallow the pills, John.”

 

The omega glared at him and hit him with his elbow, hard. He was still struggling against the arms holding him captive. 

 

The manager’s fingers came up to pinch his nose and he squeezed with his hand. “Swallow.” He ordered in a firm voice. 

 

John’s eyes widened as his air was cut off and he started to shake, his scent showcasing his sudden fear. He looked up at Eppy and shook his head, pleading with him, but it was no use. Finally, once he was close to feeling like he was about to pass out, he submitted and swallowed. He keened as he did so, bowing. 

 

Brian freed his nose but kept a strong hand over the singer’s mouth, not wanting him to throw up the suppressants. “Now, was that so hard?” He was forcing the nonchalant words, the guilt at manhandling his friend like this and betraying him turning too strong. Still, he knew that if John was on the right mind he would be thankful, or at least that’s what he told himself. 

 

All of a sudden, the omega in his arms started to shake again. The first sob broke his heart and the second smashed the pieces. He held him close (not yet removing the gag in fear of a ruse) and hushed him. “It’s okay, John. You’ll be better soon.”

 

The younger man weeped as the pills took effect, feeling hurt and betrayed. He started to gulp in breaths once Epstein removed his hand and curled himself into a ball. 

 

Soon, the exhaustion of the night took ahold of him and he fell asleep. Nervous of what the morning would bring, Brian picked him up and carried him to a couch. Then he went back and changed the sheets, added many pillows and blankets, things that would comfort an omega, then turned back to John. Embarrassed, Brian cleaned up the slick, sweat, and pre-cum that covered the singer and dressed him in the hotel’s complimentary pajamas. He then laid him back down on the bed and tucked him in. Brian ran a gentle hand through the other’s fine locks of hair, “Please forgive me, John.” 

 

Closing the door softly behind him, Brian headed to the couch and prepared himself for a restless night. 

 

* * *

 

Just as expected, Brian hardly got a wink of sleep, spending most of the night thinking about how John would act in the morning. Come morning, he paced nervously outside of John’s (his) door, freezing when it opened. 

 

The omega stepped out, looking tired and disgruntled. His hair was ruffled and pointing into all directions. He avoided Eppy’s gaze and stared into the distance instead. 

 

“Good morning, John.” Said Brian, “Alright?”

 

John nodded, “Yeah, um, I think I need...more suppressants.” That was the tricky thing about them, little buggers didn’t last long. 

 

Brian understood, he moved towards the kitchenette, “Of course, let me-”

 

“No!” John flushed and scratched his side, “I’ll get them, thanks.” He moved past Eppy, avoiding touching his shoulder. 

 

Brian sighed and turned to face the young man, “John, I-”

 

“You don’t have to apologize, Brian.” John said as he grabbed the bottle. “It would have been worse if you’d done the alternative, so thanks.” Even as he said this, his scent told his mistrust and cautiousness. 

 

The manager sighed in defeat. “What do you want me to tell the boys? You think you can go out?”

 

John shook his head, “Not today, I...I’ve never really had a heat before.” He blushed, “I just, I need to recover.”

 

Brian nodded, “Of course. I’ll tell them you’re ill, meanwhile you can stay here.”

 

The omega thanked him. He went to the living room and after a moment of hesitation started to grab some pillows and the blankets Brian had used the night before. “When do we have to leave?”

 

“Tomorrow night at the latest, I’m afraid.” Brian informed him. He looked at him with furrowed brows, “Are you going to nest?”

 

John was carrying a great amount of pillows and other fluffy details. He nodded behind his pile, “Yes, they calm me down.” Him and all other omegas, it was something Julia had taught him to do and something he liked to do, one of the few things about being an omega that brought him pleasure. “Could you maybe bring me some of my coats or jumpers?” Their familiar, comforting scent would help relax him. 

 

“Right away.” Brian said with a kind smile, “Anything else that could help?”

 

John thought for a moment. Then, “Some smells would be nice.” The air fresheners had a comforting effect over him, and would help balance the still present smell of an omega in heat. 

 

Brian nodded, “I’ll leave you to it for now, and come back with your things later.”

 

John offered a small smile, “Thank you, Eppy.” He went into his nesting room and got to work. 

 

First he moved the mattress to the floor and pushed the frame away. Then he made a small wall of pillows around it, enough to offer some feel of protection. Afterwards, he covered the mattress in thick, warm blankets and added more cushions on the top. He laid down and covered himself in more blankets, curling into a ball. Taking one pills out of the bottle, he swallowed it dry then hid it under a cushion. Because he hadn’t taken them before the heat started, their effects would be weaker and John would have to take them more frequently if he wished to stop it.

 

He wished he was surrounded by his cats right now, they were always comforting when he was supposed to be in heat; still, once Brian brought over his clothes, John would be able to cover himself with that. Hugging himself, he purred in contentment and pride. This nest was nothing compared to the one he’d built in his house but it was a good one, soft and sheltering. 

 

* * *

 

The next night the Beatles moved on to a new city, waving goodbye to crying and screaming girls at the station. 

 

John was high off suppressants, eyes droopy and mood low. He fell asleep upon reaching their carriage. 

 

“Poor sod.” Said Ringo, “Them flu medicines must be taking their toll on him.”

 

Paul frowned at his sleeping partner, “Does he smell off to you?”

 

The other alpha sniffed, “Yeah,” He concluded, “A bit. Probably the flu.”

 

George snorted, “You alphas, always smelling nonsense.” He thought himself lucky to be a beta, unbothered by alpha instincts and qualities. 

 

Paul stuck his tongue out at him and Ringo laughed. Still, the bassist was looking at John with concern, a protective feeling coming over him. What could be wrong with his partner?

 

* * *

 

They’d performed a gig and had a press conference right after arrival, then headed back to the hotel, passing up an invitation for a dinner party full of posh tossers. John had requested that Brian get him his own room where he could build a new nest and the beta, still battling his own guilt, had arranged it so. 

 

‘I don’t want you to get sick.’ He’d told the lads. Ringo had wanted to give him a hug, but John had moved away. The suppressants were doing a piss poor job as it was, if the drummer for anywhere close to his scent glands John would be toast. He’d gone into the room, raided the closet keeping the extra sheets and pillows, gone to Brian’s room and raided him, then called down for extra blankets. Once they got there, he got to work. He fell asleep without taking any suppressants, completely forgetting about them.

 

* * *

 

“Maybe someone should check up on John.” Said George, body on the floor and legs on the couch. The three beatles had been drinking steadily for the past few hours, rejoicing on their success and fame. They still couldn’t believe that America loved them, no one had ever made in America. But John wasn’t there celebrating with them, and it felt wrong. 

 

Ringo looked up from his arms, he was sprayed out in the couch face down, hugging a rough cushion. “Yeah.” He said, “Can’t let Johnny suffer all alone.”

 

Still, no one moved. 

 

George kicked at Paul’s body, “You go, McCartney. He won’t murder ya when you wake him up.” A right shiner he’d given George, John had, last time the guitarist had attempted to wake him up.

 

Paul groaned from where he laid on the floor, “Must I?”

 

Ringo threw his rough cushion at him, “Yes, Paul. You must.”

 

Paul knew they were right. His partner was all alone, all sick and miserable, and here was Paul, drunk off his arse. Well, not really. He’d had a few glasses, but he liked to think he could handle more than that. Stumbling, he stood up and headed to the door, “Alright, alright. Wish me luck.” The others laughed. 

 

He almost fell on the hallway and laughed it up as he headed towards John’s room. He knocked on the door, “John? It’s me” -He burped- “Paul.”

 

There was no answer, the older man was probably asleep. Paul grabbed the knob and found the room wasn’t unlocked. (Left unlocked by John so that Eppy would be able to enter with the food John’d asked for for breakfast, he’d gotten strong cravings for chocolate.) Shrugging, he opened the door and walked in, immediately getting hit with a smell that sobered him up. That was the smell of an omega, the intoxicating smell of an omega in heat. Tricky bastard, had John sneaked in a bird while he was pretending to be sick? He followed the smell, his alpha instincts growing with every step, to the double doors that led to the bedroom. He pressed his ear to the door and heard nothing, so naturally, he pushed open the doors and stepped in. 

 

The captivating scent got stronger and Paul could hear little whimpers coming from a nest on the floor. What was going on? Where was John? He walked closer, looked over the mountain of pillows, and froze. 

 

John was asleep, curled up on the blankets. He was sweating, shaking and whimpering in his sleep, and Paul could see slick staining his pajama trousers and the sheets below him. 

 

How could this be? John, the leader of the band, the pack, the Alpha...was an omega. Here he was, clear as day, in heat. How could he hide this from Paul? Paul was his best friend, had been since before he presented, but John had never said. He’d lied for over  _ years _ , lied about a fundamental part of his life,  _ their _ lives. Paul shared everything with John, but clearly the pair weren’t as close as he’d thought.

 

But even as these hurt and betrayed feelings, another part of him was taking charge. The alpha part looking down at a suffering omega, an unmated omega in heat. That need to dominate and mark and knot was growing, uncaring that this omega was John Lennon, Paul’s bandmate. He moved closer and knelt next to John’s curled up figure, taking in the inviting smell. He took ahold of one of John’s wrist and rubbed his nose against the scent gland there. 

 

His partner shifted and frowned, eyes opening. They were weary and submissive, the heat claiming more of John’s body and mind as he woke up. He took in the smell of an Alpha and shifted closer to them, “Alpha?” He murmured. Now that he was awake, his heat was becoming more painful just like two nights ago. 

 

Paul hushed him and caressed his side, “It’s alright. I’m here, omega.”

 

John’s brain vaguely registered the familiar voice, but his body was calling the shots now. He stared up with unfocused eyes coated in need and let his legs spread, surely the alpha would understand. Yes, this alpha would take care of him like Brian had refused to do, this alpha would fill him up and knot him just like John needed. 

 

In just as blurred a state of mind, Paul was thinking the same thing. “I will take care of you.” He promised, “Don’t worry, omega.”

 

John whined at the words and reached up to grab Paul’s neck, “Please, alpha. Take me, I  _ need _ you.”

 

Paul growled deep from the back of his throat, his scent strengthening with desire. He dragged a hand from John’s neck to his legs, grabbing the waistline of his pajama pants and dragging them down. “Don’t worry, Johnny. I’ll take care of you.” He knelt down and hid his face on John’s neck, mouthing along the scent gland there. No matter how grand his lust, he would not bite down. It was something he’d always had control over, it wouldn’t do good to mate with someone he barely knew, and it certainly wouldn’t be good to mate with John, no matter how exquisite his scent.

 

John was panting, bringing Paul down to rub against him. He could register nothing but the fire in his veins, the smell of an alpha, and the slick running down his thighs. 

 

Paul tossed his own trousers and pants away, his cock hard and ready to knot the impatient omega. He kept on licking and sucking at John’s neck, the skin soft and warm to the touch. He met no resistance as he entered him, John more than ready to take him in. 

 

Where he in a coherent state, John would take notice of the fact that he’d never been fucked before. He had never slept with anyone as an omega, even with Cynthia he’d played the role of alpha/beta. But here was Paul taking his ‘virginity’ if such a thing existed, and John could do nothing but scream with pleasure. 

 

The alpha started to move, his movements feral and his speed fast. Never had he had an omega as pliant and beautiful as John. With every other hook up there had been a tension, the knowledge that this was nothing more than a one-nighter always present, but with John there was an air of finality around. Being inside John and holding him in his arms seemed perfect to Paul, like they were puzzle pieces finally pierced together. John was no regular omega or beta (or even alpha), he was John Lennon and he was everything Paul had been waiting for. 

 

He felt his knot growing inside the omega, bliss consuming him. He didn’t think to pull out before it was too late and he was spilling inside John, shouting as he came. 

 

John arched his back as he felt himself being filled, not for one millisecond considering the possible consequences. This is what he’d been searching all along, this feeling of being one with another, of being cherished. 

 

Paul didn’t pull out right after he was finished, instead he ran a hand through John’s sweaty locks, “How was that?” He panted.

 

John purred in contentment, feeling satisfied. “Stupendous.” He didn’t even care that his carefully constructed nest had been destroyed by their actions, he was just glowing in the aftermath. 

 

Paul pulled out and held him close against his chest, laying down on the rumpled sheets and pulling a thick blankets over their bodies. The alpha in him was calming down and being replaced with an exhausted man. He yawned and positioned his head near John’s neck, making sure that he’d be able to smell him. The omega’s scent was heavenly, freshly baked bread had never smelled better to Paul. 

 

John wrapped his own arms over the ones holding him and pressed his nose against Paul’s pulse point, taking in the scent he’d longer after for years. 

 

Together, Alpha and Omega fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Brian froze when he entered John’s room in the morning, his paper bag falling to the ground. The smell hit him first, the room reeked of sex and heat. Then he spotted John’s nest, now destroyed, with two figures sleeping on it. Paul was holding John possessively against his chest, the older man curled up in his arms. 

 

Paul’s eyes snapped open as Brian got closer and his hold tightened instinctively. But then he took in exactly who was standing in front of him and his eyes cleared, “Brian?” He murmured in confusion. 

 

His manager stared at him with horrified eyes, “What have you done?”

 

Paul frowned up at him but then looked down, eyes widening at the sight of John. Slowly, he remembered the night before. Finding out that John had lied to him for years, learning that he was an omega, that he was in heat, and then sleeping with him. He moved slightly away. Brian was right, what had he done? Taken advantage of John, exactly that. But the feeling from the night before was still present, something that told him that this is exactly where they belonged. 

 

John, as if sensing the mood of the room, started to stirr. His eyes opened blearily and his movements were slow. He sniffed and said absently, “Alpha?” He had a vague feeling that there had been was an alpha, but why?

 

Paul sat up, “Hello, John.”

 

John froze and his eyes cleared. His eyes widened, “P-Paul?” Paul was the Alpha. Why was he there? Why was he in John’s nest? He shook his head, that meant that Paul knew about him. Knew that John had lied for years about who he was, what he was. 

 

The younger man smiled nervously at him, “Don’t worry, Johnny. I know.” And there was a certain resentment present in him, but right now he didn’t have to focus on that. 

 

John ran a distressed hand down his face, his scent stressed and confused, “What happened last night?” He was naked, completely naked, and Paul wasn’t wearing much either...He curled into himself as he thought about what that meant. 

 

Paul looked regretful and sheepish, “We...you were in heat.” He sighed and buried his face in his hands, “You begged for me. My instincts took over…” No more explanation was needed. 

 

John was horrified. He’d slept with Paul, the alpha. Immediately, he reached up and slapped a hand on his neck. 

 

Paul shook his head at him, “I didn’t claim you.” He looked down, “I wouldn’t do that.”

 

His friend looked at him with frightened eyes, then looked up at Eppy who was looking at him pitifully. John stood up, dragging up a sheet to cover himself, and moved away. “I think I need to be alone.” He said. 

 

Paul and Brian nodded. Paul said, “Johnny, I’m sorry.”

 

John was on his way to the bathroom but he stopped. Without turning, he whispered, “It’s not your fault, Paul. But please, leave.”

 

After they heard the lock of the bathroom door, Paul and Brian did as told. 

 

* * *

 

They kept on waving at the fans and playing for Ed Sullivan, visiting all sorts of American cities. John stayed away from Paul, embarrassed and fearful of what Paul would say to him if they had a chance to talk. Now that he knew their leader was an omega would he try to take control? Would he tell the others?

 

But as far as John could see, Paul did none of these things. Ringo and George treated him same as always, no dynamics changed. Except of course, Lennon-McCartney were distant and tense. They couldn’t even sit down to write properly, their connection too affected. 

 

Paul was solemn for the rest of the trip. He remembered how John had felt in his arms, how perfect they seemed for each other, but now their relationship was ruined. John could barely look at him and Paul was too afraid to try and talk it out. 

 

The small tour ended and they went hope for a short holiday before they had to go back for the big tour. John went off to his house in a cab all by himself, didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Paul. Paul, knowing John hated him, was determined to stay away. He wouldn’t pressure John into returning to him as a partner, though of course their musical careers depended on it. He would try to come up with some songs on his own and then review them right there on the studio. There would be no more spontaneous visits to John’s house, no more meeting at the Asher’s to jam together. John needed space and time, Paul would give it.

 

* * *

 

John’s cats were acting strange. They were being nice and his cats were never nice. John lived alone in a huge house, so he surrounded himself by cats. He had ten of them: Salt, Pepper, Elvis, Almond, Lewis, Churchill, Chuck Purry, Cleopatra, Mirtle, and Mittens. Every single one of them was usually a pain in the butt, but in recent weeks they had started to act differently. For one, they let him pet them. Then they followed him around the house, sat around him, and sniffed at his body. They curled up next to him in bed and pawed at him gently. They were less crazy too, no more pushing things to the ground just to spite him (or whatever cats did that for).He was confused but appreciated it, still slightly shaken by the events in the Americas. 

 

Filming started on A Hard Day’s Night and John it impossible to keep on avoiding Paul. He’d also realized that this was not completely fair on the younger man, who’s just gone to his aid like John had probably begged him to. So John swallowed his shame and started to make small conversation with Paul, rejoicing at the surprised but thankful smile he got in return. And that’s how they fared for a few weeks, everything was looking up in their lives. 

 

Until John missed his heat. Even with the suppressants, John felt his heat. A low burning in the background, but it was there. But March came and went, and there was no heat. John released his book ‘In His Own Write’ to good reviews and ample public interest, but even as he celebrated he found himself falling into a hole. It was April now, and his heat had never come. His suspicions only worsened when he found himself feeling nauseous out of nowhere, and vomiting after having some of his usually favourite foods. Finally he went out to the pharmacist and purchased three pregnancy tests, forcing out a laugh as the cashier said ‘Congratulations, sir. Bet your wife is happy!’ 

 

He’d gone home and now there he was, hands shaking as he stared at the tests in the sink. He hadn’t checked the results yet, too afraid of what he might find. But he’d waited for over an hour, it was time. First, he took the first one and turned it over. He doubled over in shook, it was positive. Desperate, he grabbed the second and found the same result. Fallen on his knees, he reached for the third. He let out a sob and shook his head, he was pregnant. 

 

John was pregnant with Paul’s child. 

 

* * *

 

John was laying on the couch, eyes staring at the ceiling and a bottle of scotch in hand. He’d briefly thought about whether it would be good for the baby, but ignored those thoughts. He’d picked up the bottle and had been steadily drinking from it for the better part of an hour. 

 

His cats we all around him, purring and petting at his stomach. John didn’t have the energy to push the way and let them do as they pleased. He just stared quietly at the tall ceiling and did his best to not think about the situation. But it was impossible. He was pregnant. John knew he would never be able to get an abortion, it was hard enough for female omegas to get one, his gender would make it impossible. And so would his celebrity, what would happen to the band once he started to blow up like a balloon? What would he tell the others? They were in the prime of their fame, and here was John’s anatomy coming to screw them all. He didn’t even dare think about telling Paul, things were starting to get better between them and John couldn’t risk that with the news of a ‘child.’ Besides, what could Paul do? He was dating Jane Asher, a dainty omega with a fierce personality and lots of money. He would never admit to being the father of John’s child. 

 

Gingerly, he put down the bottle and, after raising his large shirt, put the cold hand on his stomach. John’s child. He was going to be a dad. Cleopatra came up to his and rubbed her head against him, purring as she did so. Soon, Elvis and Chuck Purry followed. John sighed at them and closed his eyes. What was he going to do? He couldn’t keep it a secret, not entirely. Someone had to know. 

 

He stood up and wobbled towards the phone, putting in the number and waiting for Cynthia to pick up. 

 

“Hello?” Came his friend’s voice. 

 

John swallowed, “Hey, Cyn.”

 

“John! It’s been a while since you’ve called, I saw you on the telly.” She said, “With that Sullivan man.”

 

John smiled, “Did you?”

 

“Of course I did, John.” Cynthia said, “How have you been? I’m glad you called, I’ve been so busy with the children…”

 

John stilled. Children. Cynthia was married to an Alpha and had three kids, one named after Stuart. John looked down, what would he call his child? Usually, the Alpha got to decide the name unless she wasn’t present, like his own father, would his child grow up without a father two? Without Paul?

 

“John?” Came Cynthia’s voice, “Are you alright? Is the connection okay?”

 

“Yeah, no. It’s fine.” John answered. He gripped the phone tight, “Listen, I...something happened.”

 

Her tone turned serious, “What? Are you okay?”

 

“I, I’m not sure.” He stammered and clenched his free hand. 

 

“John,” Her tone was firm, “You can trust me, tell me what happened.”

 

He fell to the ground and held his knees close to his chest, “I, I went into heat.” He registered her gasp but kept going. “While on tour, that’s when it happened. And,” He shook his head and willed himself not to cry, it wasn’t Paul’s fault, he told himself, the alpha had no control. “Paul found me, Cyn. He found me in heat and…”

 

“Did he hurt you?” Cyn asked in an alarmed tone, “I swear if that damned alpha did anything-”

 

“No!” John interrupted her. “He didn’t, he just…” He exhaled, “He knotted me. His instincts took over,  _ both _ our instincts, and he...knotted me.”

 

There was no answer, then came a tense voice, “Johnny, you’re not…?”

 

A sob escaped him and he bowed his head. “I’m pregnant, Cyn.” Four of his cats came over and he let them jump to his lap, daring to hug them close. “I’m carrying his child.” His voice broke. He let out a shuddering breath and shook his head. “What am I going to do, Cyn? What am I going to do- I can’t have a child, how am I gonna raise them, what will the press think”- His breaths were speeding up-“They will ruin us, oh my god what am I going to do-”

 

“John, John!” Her voice commanded attention, “Breathe, come one. Just breathe.” She said, “You’re going to be okay, I can help you with the pregnancy. Maybe after you can put them for up adoption.” She too understood that abortion would be impossible to get.

 

John froze and frowned at the ground. Send his child to an orphanage? Give them away to the seaman’s mission? No, no matter how much he wished he wasn’t pregnant he wouldn’t allow his child to be an orphan, growing up unloved and cold. “I won’t do that, Cynthia. I refuse to, to abandon them like that.” Abandon them like he had been.

 

Cynthia sighed like she expected that, “Okay, then. We have time, you don’t have to make a choice right now.”

 

Still frowning, John nodded. “Okay, yeah that’s, that’s fine.”

 

Cynthia hesitated, “Are you planning on telling Paul?”

 

John shook his head immediately, “No, of course not.”

 

“But, do you that’s fair? It’s his child-”

 

“No, Cyn.” John told her, “I can’t. He won’t...I just can’t.” It was true, Paul had always longed for children. But not John’s children. 

 

His friend sighed quietly but said no more about it. “Do you want me to come over?”

 

John thought for a moment, “Yes, I...I don’t know what to do now that I’m, pregnant.”

 

Her tone was kind, “Of course. Like I said, I’m here to help.”

 

“Thank you, Cyn.” His voice was breaking again, he decided to blame his hormones. 

 

“I’ll be right there, okay? I need to go by the shop first.” She said.

 

John nodded and forced a chuckle, “I’ll be waiting. Bye.”

 

“Goodbye, John.”

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, life went on. Cynthia had gone through pregnancy three times before and so did her best to help John. Many time she recommended going to a doctor, but he’d have none of it. So far, nobody but the two of them knew about it. Not even Mimi. A month went by, still with no heat, and now it was May. They were in the studio, supposed to be glowing with the aftermath of film success, but John was getting none of that. His nausea had gotten worse, he was getting fat (at least in his eyes), and his mood swings were even worse than usual. Everyone at work had noticed. 

 

It was while they were taking a break after a particularly bad take in which John had messed up immensely that Paul approached him. 

 

His partner smiled shyly, “Hey.” He said. 

 

John looked up from his guitar and raised his eyebrows, “Yeah?” He wasn’t in the mood for Paul’s kindness. 

 

The alpha pointed to the ground next to him, “Can I sit down?” Once upon a time, he wouldn’t have needed to bother with the question. 

 

John nodded reluctantly and hoped his scents held strong. It was one thing for Paul to smell his omega scent, but another to smell him pregnant. 

 

Paul sat down and cleared his throat, “Are you okay, Johnny? You’ve been...off lately.” He looked down, “Is it because of, y’know. Because, John, I would never use that to your advantage, you have to believe me-”

 

“I do.” John interrupted him without looking. “I believe you, Paul.” And he did, Paul had done nothing to push him down since he found out about him. 

 

Paul let out a relieved breath, “Then what is it? You can trust me, Johnny...please.” How he longed for a signal that their relationship was back to normal.

 

John scoffed dryly. What could he say? See, your child is growing inside of me and fucking up my entire body and hormones, making me moody and tired. Yeah, he didn’t think so. “I’m just tired, Paul. You know me, wanna sleep all day.”

 

Paul didn’t believe him. “Are you sure that’s it, John?” He turned red, “Is it a, an-” He whispered -“ _ omega _ thing? I won’t judge if, if it is.”

 

John wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. How could Paul be so adorable while being so oblivious at the same time? “Something like that.” He settled for. 

 

“Well, I,” Paul started, “If you need my help-” He stopped as he saw John’s face, “Not like that! I didn’t meant to suggest that we, again...sorry.” He ran a hand through his face in embarrassment. 

 

John did let out a chuckle this time, “Don’t worry, Macca. I know what you meant.”

 

Paul let out an amused yet sad sigh, “Look at us. Christ, we’re being ridiculous.”

 

“Yeah, I suppose we are.” John conceded with a look down.

 

“We used to be...close, you and I.” Paul continued, “And I know I messed it up and I’m so sorry-”

 

“Paul, stop.” John said with a dismissive hand. He looked around them, “I was in heat, it wouldn’t be fair to blame you for following your instincts-”

 

“That’s the thing, John.” Paul said, looking determined. “That’s no excuse. You weren’t in the right mind, and maybe neither was I, but what we did...it was a mistake. I took advantage of you when you were most vulnerable.” He shook his head, “I won’t ever do anything like that again, I swear it.”

 

On the one hand, John knew Paul was right and was thankful that the alpha was so mature about it. One the other hand, this had just confirmed all his fears. Paul would never be a father to John’s son, the omega would have to go at it alone. Still, he couldn’t say that to Paul so instead he went, “Thank you, Macca.” He forced a smile, “Let’s just forget about it, yeah? Go back to how it was before.” He looked down, nervous. “You don’t, eh, think less me now, do ye? ‘Cause I’m, y’know.” He knew Paul had already told him but the fear remained, maybe for forever.

 

“What? Of course not!” Paul reassured with a friendly smile. “I do wish you had trusted me earlier, but of course I don’t think less of you. You’re John. You’re me best mate.”

 

John’s smile wasn’t forced this time. But the thought still remained, in a few months he was going to be more than just a best mate- he was going to be a father.

 

* * *

 

Another months had gone by and it was almost time for the Australian Leg of the tour and poor Ringo had gone and gotten ill. He was in the hospital and wouldn’t get out soon enough, so the band had gotten a replacement. James Nickel or something, John hadn’t been paying attention. He’d been too preoccupied with his pregnancy, doing his best to take care of himself without medical aid. Still, he worried. For a few days now he’d been getting pains in his belly but figured they were just part of the pregnancy, he hadn’t even told Cynthia about them. He didn’t want to seem weak in front a woman who’d given birth three times now. 

 

At the moment, he was having tea with Cynthia in the secluded back garden of his house. The two of them were talking about everything and nothing, petting cats and commenting about the lovely poppies growing around the trees. It was then that it happened. John was struck with a horrible pain in his stomach that made him drop his teacup. 

 

Cynthia looked at him in alarm, “John? What’s wrong?”

 

He raised a hand, “It’s nothing, probably those beans I had this morning.”

 

His friend looked at him with worry, “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah.” John said, standing up with a certain difficulty, “Listen, I’m gonna go to the loo, wait here yeah?” He started walking away before she could answer. 

 

In a hurry, he entered his house and went into the nearest restroom. He stumble as he reached it and groaned, breaking out into sweat. What was wrong with him? His hand came up to hold his stomach as he unzipped his trousers. Yes, those beans had been old but goddamnit, not  _ that _ old. But as the trousers fell, he was filled with a whole different feeling. Dread. 

 

Holding his breath, he reached down to touch his thigh without looking. He felt something wet and soon the smell reached his nose. 

 

John was bleeding. 

  
  


Cynthia looked at her watch, John had been gone for a long time. She chuckled, he really should have avoided those beans. 

 

But then even more time passed, enough for her to drink three more cups of tea and he still wasn’t back. Amused yet concerned, she stood up and went into the house. 

 

She knocked on the restroom door. “Are you alright in there, John?”

 

He didn’t answer. 

 

Cynthia frowned and knocked again, “John?” 

 

She was starting to think he wasn’t there at all when his voice came, sounding breathy. 

 

“Go away, Cynthia.” He said. 

 

She frowned, “Why? What’s wrong?”

 

“I said go away!” He yelled through the door. 

 

She wouldn’t give up so easily however, and knocked with a bit more force. “John, what is going on?”

 

He didn’t answer for a few moments, but then a loud crash was heard. 

 

Cynthia flinched and her hand went to the knob, trying to open the door. “John? John!” When there was no answer she stepped back and kicked at the door. It took a few tried but she got it open and it went slamming into the bathroom wall. She hurried inside and froze. 

 

John was on the ground, bloody towels all around him. The crash had come from a fallen towel rack that laid next to the omega. John’s legs were covered in the red substance and it stained the floor next to him, it was clear he’d been trying to clean it up. He looked up at her with lost eyes. 

 

“Why is there so much blood?”

 

* * *

 

They buried the child in the garden, beneath the tree, amongst the poppies. They couldn’t even figure out the gender, it was so young still. John marked the grave with a metal cross a fan had sent him. He’d had it on the back of a drawer and had dug it out for this. For his child’s grave. 

 

Cynthia looked at John from where he was kneeling next to the grave. He was wearing pajamas and looked pale, hair in disarray. Cynthia looked down, she couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose a child before you even had them. Slowly, she headed towards John. 

 

When she reached him, she put a soft hand on his defeated shoulder. He reached up to grasp her hand with his own shaking one. The two of them were silent. 

 

There were no words to make this better. 

**Author's Note:**

> I do love comments and kudos! You don't annoy me with long messages I promise.
> 
>  
> 
> (And yes that last scene was inspired by The Help)


End file.
